A sense of wonder.

It’s not an ode to the little things. Tea, though less guilty, is about equal in real problem-solving abilities to chocolate. (Zilch—which is still an amount. Er, right?) But I do want to make record of the good things, not just circumstantially, but central to who we are as wiggly, feeling, working, sleeping, crying, eating, time-keeping beings.

Things are certainly not perfect (I have nightmares every night and really should get some exercise in.), but overall they are good. Two weeks ago I was in a real creative dearth, unprepared to face dead week and final projects and more with eyes half open. What helped pull me out of the funk?

Conspiracy theories. Thinking up conspiracy theories. Of language and beauty and government and entrepreneurship. I won’t tell you any of them because if I decide to get a doctorate in sociolinguistics, I’m going to use them for dissertations. Now before you run off and tell the NSA what it already knows, this is what it’s all about.

A sense of wonder.

Arguably this is most true of emotional phenomenon to the human experience. The sense of excited smallness. The hope that waves off crushing despair of a very real harshness that tends to rule the world. The one that hushes it because it can’t stop gushing about the joy of exploration, of learning, of living.

So yep, this is where I’ll be rambling. I have finished the fall semester of my junior year in college, and I’m off to take a recreational bath. I hope you have a very good cup of tea today and enough veggies to satisfy your body’s sense of guilt.

Cheers to finding, keeping and loving a sense of wondering today.

And that’s an iPhone photo of a notebook from the lovely Alissa Bell‘s shop!